Three Pieces


Parker Tettleton





New York Quarter



I want to make a noise—I know I don’t know what the noise is thinking. The second sentence is we cut several branches off a tree. A silence keeps fucking up in my dreams. A stuffed animal was in a pond & I was diving for it. I was doing everything I could because in a dream you’re better than you actually are.





Beer Leads To More Beer



I’m a golf ball at the Masters in a dream—the thing is I’m not a golf ball, I’ve never been to the Masters, & that wasn’t my dream. We’re early but we’re also late, kicking eyes back & forth with the desperate Pacific Northwest sunlight. You are on a flight for at least a year with a family of ducks serving as the pilot & the people helping you pull your face out of the toilet. I can quit looking for jobs to quit & think & write & exercise & eat & fuck. We make up a world: our dreams we don’t remember, we keep recycling our thoughts to each other, we wake up the ghosts & the ghosts say they’re not us.





Pearl & Marty



I don’t have two names for two names. The second sentence is a phone call full of shit in front of me in front of you. You arrive looking like a burglar & we eat & we kiss & we barely sleep. One of the best things about dying eventually is not having to shave anymore. We eat salads that cost like sunlight should. We’re home now: the sunlight is still the sunlight, it’s free & we want to want to do something about it, with it. All I know is I know nothing & it’s professional.









Parker Tettleton is a vegan Leo living in Portland, Oregon.  He is the author of This Is A City (Ravenna Press, forthcoming), Please Quiet (Ravenna Press, 2018), Ours Mine Yours (Pitymilk Press, 2014), Greens (Thunderclap Press, 2012) and Same Opposite (Thunderclap Press, 2010).  Parker Tettleton is online at



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